


fuck, i love the final frontier

by CookieMonstersRUs



Series: fuck, I love you, I love you [10]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), The Boys (TV 2019)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Comic-Con, Cosplay, Dirty Talk, Doctor/Patient, Established Relationship, First Date, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mentioned Spanking, Public Blow Jobs, Public Display of Affection, Public Hand Jobs, Semi-Public Sex, Star Trek References, chekov/bones, mentioned bdsm, mentioned handcuffs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-10-28 06:09:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20773820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CookieMonstersRUs/pseuds/CookieMonstersRUs
Summary: Hughie and Butcher go on their first date!





	fuck, i love the final frontier

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bachaboska](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bachaboska/gifts), [kiazareni](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiazareni/gifts), [lmao](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lmao/gifts), [zhadia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zhadia/gifts), [jiminthestreets_bonesinthesheets](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jiminthestreets_bonesinthesheets/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Train](https://archiveofourown.org/works/817855) by [yeaka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka). 

> Y’all, I…I love y’all so much. Guys. I love you. I kept getting/reading your comments and tearing up, ily so much. Babes, I just HAD to come back. I really couldn’t stop writing Butcher and Hughie. FUCK!!!
> 
> (Also, is it let me get away with writing another of my favorite ships, then even better!!!)

_ “Are you ready to go on our first date tomorrow?” _ Butcher asked him.

Hughie squinted down at the box in his hand. His phone was pressed between his neck and shoulder as he didn’t have that many hands on him. Hughie was restocking electronics at the store. He had finally been able to give his two week’s notice after lining up a new job and Antony was trying to get Hughie to do every fucking job he could think of while Hughie was still there to do all the work.

“Um…I’m pretty sure this isn’t our first date.” It wasn’t; Hughie knew that for a fact. They’d been dating for months now. Their dates had included dinners at Olive Garden, groping one another as they (unsuccessfully) tried to watch action flicks in the movie theater, walks in the park after Hughie’s day shifts, grocery shopping together before Butcher took Hughie back to his and made bruschetta of all fucking things, bar hopping on Tuesday nights for no good reason, and even the one time Butcher had gotten Hughie into a shooting range. It had ended with Hughie paralyzed to a wall as Butcher downed his dick because he lost it when he saw Hughie holding a gun. Weirdo.

Then again, they tried axe throwing one evening and Hughie had been more than ready to bend over when he saw Butcher’s biceps as he handled an axe.

They fucked like bunnies because they couldn’t keep their hands off one another and they held each other in the mornings because nothing felt better than their legs tangled and Butcher’s face pressed into Hughie’s neck. They told each other stories about themselves, stories only a lover would be privy to hear. And they fought because of course they fought. They fought when Butcher refused to talk and when Hughie stopped trying to stand up for himself, and then they fucked until tears came to their eyes because they both knew they’d never find something like this ever again. (They weren’t ready to say that aloud quite yet, but they both knew and that was enough for now.) They smiled, laughed, and made jokes at the expense of their misfortunes. They were together. They didn’t live together, not yet, and they weren’t married (not yet.) It was clear they were in it together, for a long run, and they weren’t ever going to be able to walk away from this thing again, not anymore.

_ “I’ve been planning this,”  _ Butcher told him.  _ “Since last September.” _

Hughie blinked, putting down the boxes. “Last September? That was like a year ago!” He cradled the phone in his hand and pressed it closer to his ear. “You’ve been planning this since before—” Hughie held his tongue.

Butcher cleared his throat.  _ “Before the whole fucking Homelander thing, yes, Hughie. We’ve been over this.” _

“I know, I know…” Hughie ran a hand through his hair. One of the things Hughie and Butcher had worked on, since their whole getting-together-fuck-fiasco was honest to god communication. They were actually both shit about it. Butcher knew what he wanted to say, but couldn’t seem to say it, and not without cursing up a fucking storm. Hughie knew what he wanted to say too, but got overwhelmed with feelings of inadequacy and insecurity and couldn’t voice himself. They both had to draw the other out to actually speak. They’d gotten better at this, that was for sure, but anytime they brought up the events of last winter, words got splintered and trapped, discomfort clear in the air. “I just can’t believe…you were going to take me out last year.”

_ “I had plans to.” _ Butcher chuckled.  _ “When I came up with the fucking idea, I knew I wouldn’t be able to take you until now.” _

“What’re you taking me to?” Hughie asked. “It’s not a cruise is it?”

_ “I’m not a fucking sperrys-wearing twat, Hughie.” _

“I don’t know,” Hughie hummed. “I think you’d look pretty great in a sailor’s outfit. Lots of buttons to touch.”

Butcher growled.  _ “You’ll pay for that later.” _

Hughie laughed. “Okay, but seriously, where are you taking me?”

_ “If Robin didn’t lie, then it’s somewhere you’ve never been able to go.” _

“Wait, Robin knows and I don’t?”

_ “You’ll find out soon enough. Come to mine after work, yeah? I’ll order Vietnamese.” _

Hughie hesitated. “My dad’s been worried again, I probably shouldn’t…”

_ “C’mon, I’ll make it worth it,” _ Butcher promised. His voice lowered.  _ “Your cuffs came in the mail…” _

Hughie’s mouth dried. He tried to swallow, but couldn’t. “They did?”

_ “As did a paddle. I don’t think we talked about a paddle, you naughty boy…” _

“Jesus, fuck, okay. But order spring rolls too, yeah?”

_ “Of course, darling. See you at nine.” _

They hung up after that. Hughie finished putting the boxes away in a daze. The paddle was there too? Fuck. Whatever date Butcher was planning for tomorrow, Hughie probably wouldn’t be able to sit down for any of it, not with how tender his ass was going to be.

* * *

It wasn’t everyday that Hughie and Butcher woke up with their heads facing one another. Usually they woke up and one or the other had become the big spoon around the other and held them in their arms. Butcher woke up first. Hughie woke up to Butcher’s hand holding his cheek and thumb pressed to the bottom of Hughie’s lip. When Hughie woke up, it was too Butcher’s soft eyes. Jesus fucking Christ, he was so gay.

Their morning movements were slow and easy. Butcher’s hands kept pulling Hughie into his chest, holding his hips, sliding up to touch his chest, lips latched to the little space behind Hughie’s ears. It wasn’t meant to be arousing. Their movements had no intention to fuck, only to hold one another, to bask in the touch of another, one you knew to be yours.

By the time they’d had breakfast (Hughie could make a mean omelette and Butcher always cooked the bacon just right) they were late for whatever thing Butcher was trying to take him to. 

“Sorry, sorry!” Hughie called, pulling on his black jeans. He couldn’t find his khakis anywhere… Butcher was already dressed. Weirdly, he’d put his leather coat on before he’d gotten his shoes on, and buttoned it up too. His beard was also trimmed and his hair…it was brushed to the side.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it.” Butcher gestured to the shirt Hughie was holding. “Just know you’re taking that off later.”

“Oh?” Hughie grinned. Clothes off? Hughie’s theory that Butcher was taking him to the beach or something were getting stronger, but it was the fall and the water would be cold. Hughie had no clue what Butcher was planning. He finished getting dressed and met Butcher at the door.

Butcher held a bag in his hand. 

“What’s the bag for?”

“You’ll see.”

“I feel like you’re gonna take me out to the woods and murder me or something.”

“And miss out on your ass, princess? I think not.” Butcher kissed him. “Nothing to worry about, darling.” 

Hughie pecked Butcher on the lips and pulled back. “Okay, fine. Take me, take me to wherever.”

“Right this way.” Butcher opened the door. Hughie followed.

Their car ride was a quiet one. They listened to NPR of all things. That’s how Hughie knew that one, Butcher was an old man and Hughie was becoming one too, and two, they were practically married. Butcher parked them a few blocks of wherever he was trying to take Hughie. There were crowds or people already. Hughie held his tongue as Butcher guided him down across the street and through the crowd.

Was this…? 

Butcher’s hand reached down to hold Hughie’s. His hand gave Hughie something to hold on to, to find comfort in as they walked down the road and towards a gigantic glass building. Around them, everyone was wearing costumes or fan merch. Hughie looked wildly around at the crowd, feeling like a kid who was taken to the aquarium for the first time and had never seen a jellyfish before. But here were fans, of guys and girls in glittery skirts, of costumes, and friendly laughter. But Hughie couldn’t believe it, not really, not until they reached the glass building and the giant  _ Comic Con  _ signs were plastered everywhere. Holy fuck.

“Butcher,” Hughie said, throat closing tight. 

Butcher pressed his mouth to the top of Hughie’s head. 

“You didn’t have to…”

“I wanted to.”

“This must’ve cost a fortune, Billy—”

“Obviously we can’t go every fuckin’ year,” Butcher said, which made Hughie’s heart leap. Butcher wanted to take him in the future too? “But I know you’ve always wanted to go and never been.”

Hughie might start crying. Fuck that, he wasn’t an emotional little twink. Hughie turned to Butcher and dragged him into a kiss, practically mauling his face. Butcher responded just as eagerly. Butcher pulled back and presented the bag. 

“There’s a session or whatever the fuck it’s called at one that I think you’ll want to see. I brought this for you.”

Hughie looked into the bag and laughed, absolutely delighted. “Fuck, yeah, let’s go.”

They went through check in and security. Hughie jumped with excitement while waiting in line. There were brochures with today’s events. There was so much Hughie wanted to see, so much to do. Fuck, and there were so many great costumes too. Spider-Men and Batmen walking around with Death Eaters and PowerPuff Girls. The first bathroom Hughie spotted, he immediately went for. Butcher waited outside while Hughie went in, taking the bag Butcher brought.

Hughie took a deep breath inside the stall and opened the bag. He laughed at the shimmery yellow fabric of the shirt. Butcher was right: his shirt was off in an instant. Hughie pulled on the Ensign shirt and tucked it into his jeans. Know that Hughie was here, he was positive Butcher had hidden his khakis somewhere in the laundry basket just so Hughie was forced to wear the right pants and not ruin the surprise. He left the bathroom stall and looked at himself in the mirror. His hair wasn’t as curly or blond as it should’ve been for this character, but Hughie would make do. It felt right wearing the costume. It felt like a dream come true.

When he stepped out of the bathroom, Butcher had taken off his leather coat to reveal the blue uniform he was wearing. Hughie’s mouth dried at the sight of him. He really did look like Leonard McCoy in that moment. With his beard trimmed and his hair brushed to the side? Yeah, he looked just about ready to say  _ Dammit Jim _ or  _ Good god, man, I’m a doctor not a— _

Butcher opened his mouth, and his best attempt at a southern accent, said, “Howdy there, partner.”

Hughie burst into laughter. His accent was complete shit! “You sound like a cowboy!”

“No, I fuckin’ sound like a southern cunt,” Butcher complained, accent going thick with British, maybe even some Irish twinging. 

Hughie stepped towards him and pulled him in for a filthy kiss. “God, I—”  _ love you _ , he almost said, but caught himself. It didn’t seem to matter; Butcher’s eyes darkened at his almost declaration. They kissed again, with Butcher nibbling at his lower lip and Hughie’s hands tugging at the nape of Butcher’s head.

“C’mon, I bet you can’t even do a Russian one,” Butcher prodded, dancing the subject back to where it was lighter.

“I can do zat,” Hughie immediately replied. Butcher laughed. “Ensign Authorization code: nine-five-wictor-wictor-two!” Hughie continued.

“Wait a minute, kid. How old are you?” Butcher quoted, trying to mimic the southern drawl again and failing. Hughie still flushed at the whole idea of it, of them, in the universe of  _ Star Trek  _ with Butcher being his dastardly hot doctor.

“Seventeen, sir,” Hughie returned.

“Seventeen, huh?” Butcher licked his lips, British accent returned. “Seems a little young…”

Hughie pulled Butcher back into the bathroom. Butcher laughed at Hughie’s eager movements. He locked the door behind them and pushed Butcher against door. “God, you’re so fucking hot.”

“I’m the one that’s hot?” Butcher asked, surprised because at this point Hughie was on his knees in front of Butcher and more than ready to choke on his dick.

“Doctor,” Hughie reminded him. “I think there might be something wrong with my throat.”

Butcher laughed. “Fuck, you cheeky little—what’s wrong with your throat, Ensign.”

“It feels really tight.” Hughie tried to wiggle his ass, reminder of the last time Butcher was inside of him. It did the trick because Butcher moaned and reached down for his pants.

“Fuck,” Butcher said, unbuckling his belt and pulling down the zipper. “I know just what’ll stretch it out.”

“Yeah?” 

“It’s an old earth medical procedure.” Butcher pulled his dick out, already starting to get hard.

“Will it do the trick?” Hughie asked. He pitched his voice so it was all innocence. Licking his lips at the sight of Butcher’s cock before looking up at the man. His eyes wide and hopeful. He bit his lip, just for the effect. 

Butcher groaned. “Yeah, it’ll fuckin’ do the trick.” He reached for Hughie’s hair, fingers carding through the locks before pulling him closer. “Now open up for your medicine.”

Hughie smirked and did as he was told, opening his mouth wider than necessary so that Butcher’s cock landed softly along his tongue. Hughie shuffled forward on his hips and wrapped his lips around his cock, tongue rubbing along the underside. Butcher cursed under his breath as Hughie took him in deeper. Sometimes Hughie liked to play dirty, use as many of the tricks he picked up from Noir as he could on Butcher’s cock, make him really lose it. Other times, Hughie liked to get Butcher’s cock wet and messy, make him drool over the thickness of it. Sometimes Hughie liked the idea that Butcher was too much for Hughie and all he could do was kitten lick the head of it and wrap his hands around the base. Today, Hughie thought he was gonna lose it, so he took Butcher as far as he could, until his eyes started to water, and get lost in Butcher. He dragged his tongue wherever he could and gripped Butcher’s thighs. 

“Yeah, that should stretch you out,” Butcher murmured, rather hoarsely, as his cock nudged the back of Hughie’s throat. His hands brushed Hughie’s hair, a sign of affection, nails on his scalp. Hughie could feel the muscles of his thighs tightening, trying to restrain himself from thrusting into Hughie’s throat. Hughie liked that Butcher could control himself, was considerate of Hughie when they did this, but right now, Hughie wanted Butcher to lose his shit. Hughie shuffled closer on his knees and moved his hands from Butcher’s thighs to his ass. Hughie relaxed his jaws and pulled Butcher even closer, shoving his cock down his throat. He held it there for three seconds, listening to Butcher’s strangled voice, before pulling off of him completely. “Fuck--”

Hughie rubbed his tongue along the crown, lapped at the slit, and then sucked Butcher down all the way again. Butcher’s hands tightened in Hughie’s hair, making him moan, which then made Butcher moan and tighten his grip. They were feeding off each other. Their moans and hands gripped at one another. Hughie rubbed at the crease of Butcher’s ass, an intent there. If Butcher still wasn’t wearing his boxers, Hughie would press a thumb to his ass, tease him like he always teased Hughie. Butcher dragged his head up and down his shaft, using Hughie’s mouth like it was just another wet hole to fuck.

Hughi pulled off him again. Butcher let him. “Doctor, I’d really like my medicine. Please.” Hughie licked long stripes up his shaft, at the tip, along the slit. “Will you give it to me?” Hughie asked, eyes glued to Butcher’s. “I need my medicine, Doctor.”

“Fucking hell--” Butcher’s head fell against the door. Hughie kissed the tip of his cock, feeling it twitch. Butcher nodded and looked down at Hughie again, thumb brushing over his eyebrow. Hughie shivered at the gesture. “Yeah, I’ll give you your fuckin’ medicine.” Butcher tapped at the side of Hughie’s lips, right next to where his cock was. “Open up, Ensign, you have to swallow it all.”

Hughie did as he was told, opening his mouth wide again and leaving Butcher’s cock resting on the pillow of his bottom lip and wet tongue. Butcher reached around and grabbed one of Hughie’s hands from his ass. He guided his hand to his shaft and they wrapped their hands, together, around Butcher’s cock. They jacked him off together. Hughie couldn’t stop looking at their hands, at Butcher’s thickness covering Hughie’s thin fingers, but Butcher tapped him on the head.

“Eyes up, Ensign,” Butcher ordered, “I wanna see you take your medicine.” 

Hughie blushed and looked up and at Butcher. He couldn’t see hs cock anymore, and wouldn’t be able to tell when Butcher was coming until it was already on his tongue. Hughie still shied away sometimes from Butcher’s heavy stare, all on him, all for him. Butcher’s eyes, hooded and dark brown, were all for Hughie and Hughie was all for him. Butcher’s cock twitched and then there was cum on his tongue, hot and salty. Hughie rubbed his tongue along the crown and their hands moved slowly along his shaft until Butcher’s orgasm passed. Hughie, still looking at Butcher, like a good boy, swiped one last lick and then made a show of swallowing, taking his medicine. It was good for him after all.

Butcher reached for Hughie’s shoulders and pulled him up so that they were now leaning against the door. Butcher growled, “You fucking--” before claiming his mouth in a hard, possessive kiss. They made out like that, completely consumed in one another. Hughie liked the feel of Butcher’s tongue on his more than he liked the feel of his cock. Butcher’s hand brushed against the hardness in Hughie’s pants and pulled back. “Ensign, you seem to have another medical problem.”

Hughie snickered, which quickly turned into a moan when Butcher squeezed his hardness. “Yeah, it really hurts, Doctor.”

“I know just the cure. There are two procedures I know of for this kind of disease.”

“Oh?”

“Hand or mouth operation, both very serious procedures--invasive even.” Hughie giggled at that. Butcher nipped at his lips and unbuckled Hughie’s pants for him.

“Whichever is fastest,” Hughie admitted. “You’re a very efficient doctor,” Hughie told him as Butcher wrapped a hand around him, stroking fast and hard.

“I have a PhD.” Hughie giggled and Butcher stole his lips into a kiss. Hughie couldn’t help it, he came like that, slumping against the door and panting wildly. Butcher eased him through it, kissing him slowly, deeply. Hughie hummed through it, eyes slipping shut.

They cleaned themselves up, lips practically glued to one another. They were going to be late for their Star Trek panel, but it didn’t matter, not when Butcher’s fingers twined with his. They stepped out of the bathroom, noticing a long, impatient line glaring at them, and smiled anyway. Hughie led them through the crowd, laughing at how bright the world was.

“Ready, Ensign?” Butcher asked as they got into the panel’s line.

“Doctor, I think something’s wrong with my bum--can I make an appointment with you later?”

Butcher growled and pinched ass. “I know just the cure.”

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve never been to a convention so bare with me. Although, if any millionaire readers wanna take me there, I’ll wear a skimpy dress (or dapper suit) and everything as ~payment~ ;)


End file.
